The art of avoiding questions in a gubernatorial race

July 18, 2014|Aaron Deslatte, Capitol View

TALLAHASSEE — News flash: Gov. Rick Scott doesn't answer questions.

Yes, it's media-driven sound and fury, but when a governor can turn an oxymoron into a national cable-news debacle with CNN's Anderson Cooper claiming he "insults everyone's intelligence," voters deserve an explanation.

Two weeks ago, Scott held a campaign event in Tampa where a half-dozen or so on-duty law enforcers got used as a backdrop — some without their knowledge that the event was political instead of official state business. That would be illegal.

Since then, he's been a campaign tracker's dream, producing a succession of uncomfortable on-camera deflections about why on-duty officers were invited to a political event. Sure, this kind of fodder may be empty calories. But it's the kind that national super PACs can use to help swing a razor-thin Florida election.

In the vital Interstate 4 hotbed of swing voters, where Scott has spent a majority of his $15 million on ads so far, the governor has been berated for simply repeating, "I appreciate everybody who comes to my events."

Scott doesn't like answering questions, particularly those that challenge his decisions. One of his ads pokes fun at how the news media "aren't always my friends."

From the first time he got cornered by cameras and recorders while filing his qualifying paperwork in 2010, Scott has looked more like someone getting mugged than auditioning for the highest public office in the state.

None of this is a disqualification from holding the job. But it makes the task of re-electing him harder, allows Democrats to troll him on social media and has produced yet another ethics complaint filed by a retired Broward County cop.

The real disservice here is to the voter who thinks politicians may have an obligation to detail the rationales for their decisions. But politics is an art of obfuscation, not illumination.

Florida governors have been saying a lot about nothing for decades. Gov. Bob Graham was great at seeming to answer questions without actually doing it.

Democratic challenger Charlie Crist is a pro at looking his questioners in the eyes, asking about their family or health and evading their questions.

Gov. Jeb Bush was a rare exception — a pol who relished dust-ups in the media "gaggle" because he often held a superior command of the issues.

The difference is Scott's nonanswers are the "in your face" variety. His public-relations staff has tried to soften him — losing the tie, holding news conferences in his office instead of behind a podium, workdays in a doughnut shop and restaurants.

His discipline in staying on script is impressive. But television turns hard-nosed obstinacies that may be assets in corporate negotiations into cringe-worthy YouTube curiosities.

Dodging one question is an art form. Dodging the same question repeatedly for 60 seconds is a bad week. And in the heat of a high-stakes campaign, it produces a positive-feedback loop.